


Therefore, Me and You

by ffallenshadow, FixerRefutation, LinaBigFace



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hope's Peak Academy (Dangan Ronpa), Angst, Break Up, Characters Tagged As They Appear, Fluff, Illusions, Like IM or DM and then writing too cause reality and stuff, Love, M/M, Magic, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, chatfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-07-15 22:19:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16072508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ffallenshadow/pseuds/ffallenshadow, https://archiveofourown.org/users/FixerRefutation/pseuds/FixerRefutation, https://archiveofourown.org/users/LinaBigFace/pseuds/LinaBigFace
Summary: Hope's Peak Academy is for the very best of the best. The school itself is the source of almost all media, and the most famous people are stars even before entering the academy. It's also a drama story waiting to happen.And even under all those lights and focuses, Hope's Peak runs more classes, specially made for the 77, 78, and 79th classes, each with a limited number of students with unique abilities that set them apart from the rest.Kokichi Ouma is grouped up in the same class as his ex, and hecouldn't be happier.(summary liable to change!)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> welcome to this ~~six-way~~ collaboration fic! It's me, yur host, Fixer Refootnation, and WHOOT am i excited
> 
> we've been planning this for a while in discord so we'd appreciate all your support! <3

* * *

_'The worst things that happen to me are only in dreams.’_

* * *

 

The bell finally rung, putting an end to the after-school activities. The quiet halls were suddenly flooded with students exiting from their labs, some chatting, some on their phones, some relieved and others tired, stretching their limbs around wildly, smacking a few people and not seeming to give a shit.

 

That was, until they smacked Sakura Oogami, who’d quickly put them in their place. Her muscles and physique was a perfect example of how special Hope’s Peak Academy was. The 77, 78, and 79th classes were the ‘special classes’, one for every sixteen people who’d gained ‘abilities’ at an disclosed age.

  
A boy wearing a white uniform sprinted down the halls, clenching his backpack tightly as if it would slip from his shoulders unexpectedly. He’d left his original back at his classroom, so he hit up his cousin, Chiaki Nanami-who wasn’t exactly surprised at his forgetfulness-, and gained a replacement backpack that she promised was filled with silly string and snacks.

 

It was pink and hat a cat head on the top of it, as if she _wanted_ him to get embarrassed-but he’d dwell on that later. His fist held a crumpled piece of paper that detailed his name, his class, and invisibility ink named his ability and type.

  
He quickly made it to the doors, not even bothering to excuse himself as he bumped shoulders with other students.

 

Kokichi walked briskly through the open gates, his feet crushing the dried leaves that covered the entire passage to a noisy street. He turned his head from side to side, absentmindedly playing with the sleeves of the cat hoodie Chiaki lended him, blanking out for a moment before pulling out his note. “Shitshitshitshit, i’m late..”

  
He quickly turned to the right.

  
Ouma looked up as light flooded his vision, savoring the view for a moment before his inevitable demise. _God, Tojo_ would _kill_ him. The sun was already setting down, a warm pink-orange coat blanketing the sky. He mindlessly turned and ran a memorized route, thoughts provoked by the amber colour that covered the sky.  


A warm golden iris and long, glittery eyelashes fill his mind’s eye. He blinks rapidly, and the vision is gone. “..mai.” He shook his head rapidly as if to brush off old wounds that had already dried and become cold. It was over. He’d probably already moved on, anyway. To Akamatsu or Momota or someone that deserved him. He didn’t deserve to be with someone as _cracked_ and _messed up_ as Kokichi was, anyway. Better off like this.

He just had to ignore his pleading eyes and soft sobs in the bathroom, had to _for_ him,had to _because_ of him. Better off like this. Better off alone.

 

Head bowed, Kokichi didn’t see the person in front of him before he tripped on a _freaking rock_ and crashed headfirst into the (actually pretty warm) person. “Aghhh…” A sheepish voice answers him. “A-Are you alright? I-I’m so sorr-” Violet irises met amber eyes, and Kokichi scrambled back. _Oh no. oh no, oh no, oh no ohnononono-_  


There was a small lilt to this voice, somewhat high and soft at the same time, not unlike Akamatsu’s. But this tone was..exceedingly familiar, and male.  


_Oh._

  
_It was him._

 

Saihara Shuichi, 79th class and Kokichi’s ex-boyfriend.

 

..oh, and murder girl, music freak, and space idiot.

 

_...greeeaaat._

 

-

  
“...Kokichi-” The detective’s eyes lowered with something unreadable before he looked up and smiled warmly, reaching out a gloved hand to him. A crisp autumn breeze rustled the trees, and this whole thing..this whole thing felt like it came out of a _damn manga._ Kokichi wanted to bang his head in the ground.  
  
He doesn’t take Shuichi’s hand as he pulled himself up.

 

Shuichi looked downtrodden for approximately five seconds before reaching out as if to touch Kokichi. “Don’t.” Kokichi’s voice is harsh, cold, and he licks his lips nervously before looking away and walking a fast ahead of the quartet.

 

A voice calls to him. It’s not Shuichi’s though, it’s Kaede’s. “Hey, Ouma-kun! Wait!” Another voice quickly joins, loud and echoing in the leaf-covered street. “Ouma, c’mon man! Why d’ya gotta run so fast?!” He takes a quick peek behind him, and sees that Shuichi is lagging behind the astronaut and the pianist, next to assassin girl.

 

He sighs and slows down. It wasn’t like he had enough energy to outrun them, considering he’d probably faint from exhaustion due to no breakfast or lunch.

 

.. _Note to self: eat breakfast next time, you fuck._

Shuichi looks up to see Ouma slowing, and his eyes light up, scarf tucked around his neck (with the ends as a checkerboard pattern) as he runs faster than the trio behind him, landing next to Kokichi with a smile. “Wh-why’re you going so fast, Ouma-kun?” He asked warmly, letting Kokichi lean a bit close to the heat emanating from the detective. _Just like old times._

 

... _stop smiling._

 

“Ah, nothing much! Just running away from a murderer!” Kokichi chirped back cheerfully, arms crossed behind his head, a soft smile decorating his pale face.  
  
Three groans could be heard, followed by annoyed stares. Predictable. Not that it was different before, really. Funny how they always acted the same way, every time. Were they robots or something?

 

..Well, Kiibo was, but he didn’t count.

  
Shuichi just stood there, trying to stifle a laugh, his smile still visible.

  
_..stop smiling at me. Please, save it for someone who deserves it, Shumai. Why..would you still think of me as a_ friend, _after everything I did to you..?_

 

Ouma looked away, stuttering for a moment as he tried to keep his cool, as he pretended that the source of his constant _freaking_ internal struggle wasn't right in front of him. "Well, I-I should go now!" He blurted out, then left without saying goodbye. A soft, distant voice echoed in the streets behind him as he dashed off again.  
  
He turned to the right again, exhaling a breath he didn't know he was holding.  


_Why is this happening again? I don’t love him anymore, anyways. All of this is stupid. I don’t love him. I don’t like him. He’s not even my friend anymore._  
  
He played with the tips of his hair as he turned left.

 

-

 

Shuichi looked wistfully at the space where Kokichi had been, playing with the tips of his scarf. The leader looked cold.

 

Shuichi..missed taking care of him.

 

  
Kokichi finally arrived at the park just as the last kids left, holding hands with their older sibling and/or parents, going home after a long day at work, some carrying dogs and others throwing rubber snakes into the grass as some kind of last-minute prank. He looked at them, and pointed two thumbs down before pulling out the silly string in his- er, Chiaki’s- backpack, and covering the nearest tree. The kids donned an understanding look, smiling wide and rushing out of the park to jump into his parents’ arms just as the lanterns lit up, bathing Kokichi in a whitish glow.  
  
He sat on solemnly slow swings, dragging his feet idly in the sand as he stared at the clouds that floated across the sky for a while before brushing himself off and avoiding the seesaw. Korekiyo ruined that beautiful childish experience for him, and even now he’s haunted by the rush of blood and haze of pain in his forehead.  


Kokichi walked through the park, observing the still ambience around him, stopping before a big tree. He started climbing on it using branches as stepping stools, reaching higher and higher, until he was right under the trap-door.  


He knocked.  


_One, one, stop, three, seven._

  
It opened.  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wowza, so many kudos already?!
> 
> fixer: shut whoever you are
> 
> It's me meme
> 
> fixer: i really should've expected that shouldn't i've


	2. Glowy Glowy Illusion Showy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI WE ARE BACK

_-_

_Risk everything for a dream that isn’t your own_

_-_

 

Kokichi took a peek inside as he opened the trapped door and crawled inside.

 

This was was familiar to him, as he searched around the treehouse. There wasn't much inside as he put his- or Chiaki’s- backpack down, making sure not to harm any of the contents inside. Inside the semi-dark room were the ever-present blanket and pillows he could plot on and relax his muscles after such a stressful day of avoiding Shuichi. He planned to do his homework later, as he wanted to relax for a while before he could do anymore.

 

He leans back on the-rather dusty- wood flooring of the treehouse. Small and cozy, and easily hidden in the bushiest tree of the park. Almost by habit, he turns his head to turn over to what _he remembered_ as the _familiar warmth that was always beside him_

 

He hastily scrambles up into a sitting position, looking down sheepishly at the wood, poking at a leaf that seemed to have slipped through the treehouse itself.

 

He still misses him, yes, but it was for the best. At least for now.

 

...It was cold.

 

Then, a knock.

 

One, one, stop, three, seven.

 

He took a moment to savor the peace and quiet, listening to the sound of muffled, childish voices before crawling over and opening the hatch, ushering in the children one by one.

 

“-aro, your _sleeve is in my face-”_

 

“Masaru-I would _appreciate it_ if you would kindly- _mmph-”_

 

“Well, not everything-your way _\- ‘gisa!”_

 

Kokichi watches amusedly, leaning back unhurriedly. “Aww, rushing up to see me? It’s okay, you don’t have to fight over me, ladies, men.” Nagisa shrugs himself up to his full height-which isn’t very high-, keeps his eyes steady-just like Kokichi had taught him to, wow!-, and confidently smacks Kokichi on the head. 

Kokichi _nishishi_ ’s in turn, pulling the blue-haired boy down on the ground and helping the others through the trapdoor. “One by one, you all should know this by now..” He mutters offhandedly. Kotoko pouts at him, halfway lodged in the opening with a basket just on the top of the floor of the treehouse. He figures quite a few adults-if there were any, of course- would be staring at half a kid’s body wiggling in the trees right now in terror.

 

...good.

 

“Hey, hey! Help an adorbs girl out here, okay! Pull me up, pull me up please!” she chirps, raising her arms and making the basket wobble dangerously. Kokichi stands and pulls her by the wrists, dragging her out from the open and into the safety of the house. “Okay,” he pulls the basket handle from her arm, setting it down carefully in the corner for later before letting Masaru and Nagisa pull her over to the-albeit slightly dirty- blanket and pillows that they let cover three-fourths of the floor should they ever fall asleep.

Kokichi, of course, had his own blanket and pillow, which he sometimes (read: usually) put over the children- mostly because they needed warmth more than he did, he was a teenager- and he settles down to pull out one of those cool outdoor lamps used for camping from Chiaki’s backpack, shuffling around to close up the windows so nothing could show from the outside.

 

“So…” He starts off awkwardly, because meetings always started out awkward before they actually did anything.

 

“What story is it today?” Masaru begins, with sparkling eyes and a cheery grin. “Is it- um, the one with the blond hero elf-guy? Hy-hyli-,” he quits on trying to pronounce the word, and instead changes the subject. “Or is it about the, um, the hope guy at your school?” And before Kokichi and answer to any of those questions, the boy leans over, and asks in his most conspiratorial whisper. “Or is it..about _me?_ ”

Kokichi pushes the ‘Lil’ Ultimate PE’s head back with the palm of his hand, then shifts to find a better position. He wraps Chiaki’s one-size-larger jacket around himself, and moves two hands out to the four others in the treehouse. The whole ‘magic’ part of his powers always made him cold, and viable to passing out if he used them for too long. (Which was why they’d always kept some blankets and a pillow for him in case he _did_ pass out unexpectedly while in the middle of a story, which happened often.)

Slowly, steadily, inky black spills out, rivulets of black cascading into glittery smoke, with multi colored dots that sparkled with a reminiscence of the sky. The four children, now clad in blankets, look wonderingly to the sky in which the black raises itself, shifting from grey, to brown, to red, then to orange and blue and pink, mixing and blending gradient-like oils on a canvas.

And the cabin is awash in little horses flitting along the walls, clouds on the roof of the house, resembling an intermittent day. A little golden smidge of a paper floats its way down, its imagery sharpening as Kokichi focuses exclusively on it. “A paper plated in gold, is what was known as ‘a golden ticket…’ He intones, eyes glowing almost lavender in the pale light of the lantern. White coating the grounds, buildings appearing and disappearing as the main character, a tall and thin little thing, walks by in the cold.

‘It was coveted, a delicate little thing that was the invitation to a spectacular world filled with the strangest of creatures- the most outlandish machines- and naturally, the bringer-together of them all; his name was..mmm..Willy Wonka, and everyone wanted the secrets as to what was inside his very own..”

 

-

 

Rantaro shrugs on his expensive winter coat as Kiibo looks anxiously around corners and inside classrooms for Kokichi. “Kiibo,” Rantaro quietly calls out. “It’s alright; Kokichi left earlier today for his session with the doctor.” The robot looks from him to the ground, fiddling with metal fingers. His ahoge drops. “I promised to show him to an amusement park today..” he mutters, looking down.

Rantaro gives him a reassuring pat before opening the doors outside the school. “Well,” he starts. “You shouldn’t forget your maintenance with Miu; you scheduled it today, remember?” Kiibo absolutely hated being alone, due to his ability to, and Rantaro quoted (from Miu), ‘be able to fuck up the entire school and maybe half the world’, he was forced to spend a whole, 24-hour day in either the Inventor’s or the Mechanic’s lab. The robot was a stable model, yes, but all machines needed maintenance and without it, Kiibo would shut himself in his room, and maybe even shut himself down.

Thanks to Miu’s talent, Kiibo didn’t have to worry so much as long as he visited Miu every month or so. But because the inventor was so busy fixing things and creating...questionable things here and there, she usually only had time for one session.

“Well, I’m working on that ‘maintenance-while-you-sleep’ machine,” she says while he stares at the bags below her eyes. “But I’m…” she looks away, blushing. “I-i’m working on..another machine..for my..” She starts drooling, and that’s when Rantaro decides that _maybe_ he should be booking it _right now._

 

Poor Kiibo, really.

 

He checks his-again, ridiculously expensive- watch, noting the time and deciding to go for maybe a good drink of some..green latte, or something.

 

After a beat of silence, he pulls out his phone.

 

> **eypassmetheweed:** hey

> **eypassmetheweed:** ..

> **eypassmetheweed:** who tf

\-- **rocketboy:** yo

\-- **rocketboy:** ,,, **_THIS IS WHY HE TOOK MY PHONE EARLIER_ **

+ **painist:** o

+ **painist:** well then

~ **stabby wabby-chan:**

~ **stabby wabby-chan: shuichi hold my phone**

< **shoeweedcheese:** what did he

< **shoeweedcheese:** oh.

 

**[eypassmetheweed changed eypassmetheweed’s name to avocadon’t]**

 

**[avocadon’t changed three other names]**

 

+ **Yama-HA:** oh i kinda liked my name

\-- **Marsbars:**

< **Notsosherlock:**

> **avocadon’t:** uh _huh_

> **avocadon’t:** anyways

\-- **Marsbars:** what does kaede’s name mean anyway

+ **Yama-HA:** itsa piano joke! Yknow

+ **Yama-HA:** _yamaha_ the piano making company

\-- **Marsbars:**

\-- **Marsbars:** the **_fuck_ ** is that

> **avocadon’t:** **_anyways_ **

> **avocadon’t:** wanna meet up at the local cafe?

+ **Yama-HA:** sure i got nothing else to do

+ **Yama-HA: right, Kaito?**

\-- **Marsbars: why am I being targeted**

+ **Yama-HA: because you’re the one who spends 30 minutes gelling his hair  
** ****  
< **Notsosherlock:** i mean  
  
< **Notsosherlock:** she’s not wrong

~ **Wabbily-stabbily-chan:** I wish she was.

~ **Wabbily-stabbily-chan:**

> **avocadon’t:** see all yalls later

~ **Wabbily-stabbily-chan: rantaro i will kill you when i see you**

> **avocadon’t:** love u too makiroll-chan <33

 

Rantaro sighed as he turned swiped through his phone, smiling. He needed something to pass the time, anyway. In the meantime.. He dialed Kokichi’s number.

 

-

 

….

 

“...and finally, Charlie, the last child left-that didn’t do anything wrong-got the chocolate factory that Willy Wonka loved entrusted to him.” The wind whistled, the basket filled with food in the corner barely ruffled.

 

Then Jataro, almost shyly, raised his hand from under the blankets. “Jataro?”

  
“Do- are you telling us that we have to be good to adults when we get something special from them?” Kotoko cut in, eyes sparkling. “Or are you telling us that if we’re good, we can have that _adorbs_ factory to ourselves?”   


Kokichi stopped, then smiled mischievously. “Well,” he started. “What do i always say to you?”  


Kotoko grinned back. Then, in a stage whisper, she answered. “ _As long as Nagisa doesn’t see, everything in life is free!_ ” He nodded. “Good.” Then, he raised his arm, just enough, that the illustrious lights of the city in _Charlie’s Chocolate Factory_ faded back into nothingness, blanketing the room in dark.

 

As soon as the last wisps of the illusion faded back into his body, and Kotoko tucked herself in, his eyes rolled up into its sockets as the fatigue finally took over.

 

….

 

**big bro-chan <3 is calling…**

 

**big bro-chan <3 is calling...**

 

**big bro-chan <3 is calling...**

 

_...missed call._

 

-

 

Kaede looked around nervously.

 

+ **Yama-HA:** so...i’m lost.

 

No one answered.

 

She bit her lip, then tapped on the shoulder of the nearest passerby. “Excuse me,” she said, almost singsong. “Can you take me to the local cafe around here?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a;dlkfj;lhjlkjhlkjhnlkjglkh waiting on our artist friend


	3. Chapter 3

* * *

_Don't go, I need to learn a little more_

* * *

 

 

Shuichi didn’t really understand a lot of things. Well, yes, he did occasionally solve the unsolvable murder cases around the city, but other than that, he was an utterly hopeless case. He sagged in his seat, cap pulled far down, covering his eyes and leaving his head exposed, looking at his phone from below the table.

 

“...”  


He banged his head into the smooth wooden tabletops. “Ghhh…” His head slid down, and the cold of the table chilled his cheek. From an onlooker’s point of view, he would look like some idiot who was overly nervous for a date.  
  
The soft chatter of the people and the screams of the TV up above faded into a dull standstill. Shuichi paused, and adjusted his head to block out the light. His breathing slowed to a soft _in, out. In, out._ His fingers tapped against the wood, settling into a rhythmic pattern.   
  
_  
tap, tap, tap, tap._

 

Shuichi heard the gentle _clack_ of a glass, presumably filled with the chai iced tea he’d ordered before, and a resigned sigh before the footsteps walked away.

He waited again until things were silent. Thoughts filled his mind, but unlike the vibrant, loud place they usually took up in the space that was his head, they were dull, small, pulled away.

  
Insignificant.

 

From his little corner table in the back of the cafe, Shuichi reached _out._

 

“Shuichi! Hey, why so far in the back?”  
  
Shuichi let out a _hiss_ of part dislike, aimed towards the light Momota shoved in his face, mostly from irritation. He blinked rapidly, eyes going from a couple, slightly flushed faces from the cold, and to a sheepishly smiling green-haired adventurer. “Momota..kun.” He began, attempting to hide his annoyance but failing miserably- and not really caring about it.

 

“I was almost _there…_ ”

 

Shuichi had a problem. Momota stuck a arm behind his head, scratching it as he awkwardly apologized in realization. Maki rolled her eyes and offered a little wave to Shuichi. He waved back, smiling and tilting his head towards the wannabe astronaut. They shared a quick, little exchange, a learned language from being Momota’s sidekicks since...forever. Shuichi realized with a chuckle that they’d never really graduate from being Kaito’s sidekicks and best friends, even after Kaito took in half the entire 79th class on account that they ‘could be his junior sidekicks.’

 

Kokichi had not taken kindly to that.

 

“Ah, hello guys!”

 

Shuichi raised his head.

 

Kaede proudly stood in her 167 centimeter glory, tastefully dressed in the latest trends of musical wear. Even outside of school, it was nice to even see her nowadays. She curled an ever-present strand of hair behind her ear and sat down next to Rantaro, leaning on the table as if ready to discuss the latest gossips or tell the best stories from her travels.   
  
Rantaro smiled patiently at her as she lightly punched him, teasing him about how lost she was without the adventurer’s old-timey maps. “I had to wander around the circle for hours, you know! Found a piano shop, and started playing Rachmaninoff's prelude in c# minor on repeat before I could properly settle down.”  She attacked the poor adventurer’s head while she talked, messing it up as she ignored his laughing pleas for mercy

“Relax your nerves? Don’t you play in front of millions of people every week?” She grinned in reply, raising up her arms in her signature ‘let’s do it!’ pose as she replied. “Well, Amami-kun, you’re the one getting jumped at by girls on every continent, aren’t you?”

“What can I say, really? They just.. Like me, I suppose. But you know that’s an exaggeration, right?”   
  
“Lies, Amami-kun. Lies.”   
  
Shuichi laughed a bit, getting pulled into a conversation between Kaito and Maki. “Sidekick,” Kaito whispered. “Help. Me.”   
  
“From what?” Shuichi asked, attempting to pull free his arm from the astronaut’s grip. He was going to slip, dammit. Maki crossed her arms and sent a piercing glance at Kaito. “Yes, Momota. Help you from what?”  
  
Kaito laughed nervously, releasing his hold on Shuichi, and attempting to back away from the SHSL Assassin. “N- nothing! At all, actually! Um, I gotta go to the restroom to, um…” Maki sighed in resignation and turned back to Shuichi. He flinched a bit at the remnants of the gaze she must’ve been giving Kaito.

“Anyways, he ruined the mood. How are your..?” She gestured towards his wrist. He looked down at it and shrugged, wiping at the concealer. He could just replace the makeup, anyway. Faded script faced him, and he showed it to Maki under the table. “...no changes.”

She nodded thoughtfully. “Well, I-,”  
  
“Hey so, Shuichi, how’re you and Kokichi?” Kaede leaned forward with eager anticipation, music notes in her hair sparkling in the overhead lights of the lamp above their table. Her magenta- violet, magenta-? He laughed uneasily and edged away from her smiling face. “I-I’d appreciate..if you, um, try not to lean on the table, Akamatsu-chan..?” His voice ended in a small squeak, and her reply was a soft, tinkling laugh.

Kaede Akamatsu, a classical icon and also part of Hope’s Peak Academy. Due to her title, and extreme talent, she was often excused from attending school due to impending performances that lead to pricey outings with her closest friends and class.

It wasn’t really surprising though, because most, Shuichi reasoned, students at HPA were already celebrities, whether high up in the musical ranks or physical. For god’s sake, they had a _princess_ here. Sure, there actually wasn’t a whole lot of students in Hope’s Peak itself, but its festivals, and its overwhelming popularity made it the number one place for people from all heritages to attempt to enter.

 

..and then, there were the ones who _didn’t_ need to try to enter.

 

Shuichi wasn’t one of them, of course, but…

 

He’d known a few people under the radar, hiding their actual talents from view. Besides Naegi-san, who really wasn’t afraid to admit he was an ‘Ultimate Hope’, to Hinata-san, who harbored another personality that was an ‘Ultimate Ultimate’, to Class 79th’s very own beloved liar, Kokichi.

 

_I say beloved, but.._

 

“Anyways, let’s get some desserts, please!”  
  
“..Wait, Akamatsu-san, why’re you buying so many-?”

 

-

  
Kokichi was drowsy. Too drowsy. The night was cold, and he pulled some fabric closer to hugging his body. Four children sat in front of him, talking in hushed voices and leaning on his body as if using it like a couch, and he shuffled as slowly as possible- which annoyed him to a great amount- to shoot a few messages to the four’s parents, texting out some bullshit that they were learning some algebra 3 with him and totally not playing games with the computer that was in Chiaki’s bag.

 

“...”

  
  
**Kimchi:** I might be a lil late today mkay

**Chaiki:**

**Chaiki:** get ur butt out of the treehouse its 9pm

**Chaiki:** im getting close to 500 on flappy brd and nt gnna pck u up

**Kimchi:** you’d pick flappy bird over your sweet precious cousin and his four surrogate children

**Chaiki:** Everyday.

**Kimchi:** meanie :(

  
  
**Kimchi:** :(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
**Kimchi:** this treehous is my home now tehn screw you

**Chaiki:** then suffer

**Chaiki:** ^^

 

Kotoko smothered his face in blanket without warning. “No!” She scolded harshly, and Kokichi briefly regretted his decision to ask Tojo to watch over them. The maid had surely taught them to speak to him like adults, huh? “Get your butt back into bed and _stay there!_ You’re gonna ruin Masaru’s game with the offline dinosaur if you keep moving around, dummybutt!” 

He huffed. “I have school tomorrow, you know.. People’re gonna be assuming things if I don’t come back until tomorrow. “  
  
“Then suffer.”   
  
He choked in surprise.

 

Must’ve been Chiaki who watched over them, actually.

**Author's Note:**

> It's me, meme


End file.
